Her mother tilted her head.
“What if he hurts you?” she said gently. “What if y’all hurt each other and figure it out anyway?” A small smile tugged at her mouth. “What if it works? What if this is the love story?”
Kennedi blinked at her. “That was beautiful, Mommy.”
“And so are you.” Her mama brushed a thumb across her cheek. “You don’t always see it.”
The room settled around them.
Her mother’s voice stayed firm but landed gentler now. “Listen to me. You don’t have feelings on the line anymore. You’ve got this, baby. So whatever y’all are doing, you need to find some common ground. And fast.”
Kennedi swallowed. The weight of it wasn't shame; it was just reality.
“I’m telling him soon,” Kennedi said, voice steadier now. “I promised myself I would.”
“Good.” Her mother pulled her close again. “And whatever happens, you’ve got us. You’ve always got us. And your father was once upon a time SBB; he’ll make sure Rolani stands up and does the right thing. By laws are by laws.”
“Ma, what are you talking about?”
“If you think your father, Kenneth Brandon Walters, is going to sit by and let a nigga breathe and not take care of his responsibilities, you are sadly mistaken. You are and have always been his baby girl. He will suit up behind you. But I saw the way that young man looked at you. I don’t think that’s going to be an issue.”
The hug her momma gave her was new; it felt different. And she’d never heard her prissy mother speak like that. The mother-to-mother moment was perfect.
She sighed before her mother released her and started packing up plates for her. She gave her mother permission to tell her father, she simply couldn’t do it, what if he was disappointed? She couldn’t see that look on his face.
Later that night, alone in her apartment, Kennedi looked at the half-packed boxes stacked against the walls and groaned. She’d been avoiding them for days, but tonight she needed something to keep her mind off her mama’s words. They wouldn’t leave her alone, circling in her head with every step she took through the apartment: See things for what they are, not what you want them to be.
She filled her Stanley cup, turned on her playlist, and started with the kitchen boxes. Dish by dish, she unpacked.
Rolani was dangerous, but he’d shown up when she tried to hide. He hadn’t backed down. He saw past the walls she built. And he wasn’t selfish—with Monroe, with his business, with her. That complicated everything.
By the time she moved to the dining room, her shoulders felt lighter. Her phone buzzed on the coffee table.
Ro: I meant what I said, Ken. I’ll cut up about you. Don’t test it.
She froze mid-step, glass dangling from her fingers. The man had a way of typing like he was right in the room, close enough to breathe against her neck.
Kennedi: That’s exactly what scares me.
The reply came quickly, like he’d been waiting on her all night.
Ro: Scared of being loved too good? Can’t relate.
Ro: I’ll take my time with you… or I won’t. Depends on how you act.
Her laugh broke out before she could stop it, too loud in the quiet apartment. She bit her lip, sinking onto the couch, her thumb hovering.
Kennedi: Goodnight, Rolani.
Ro: Don’t make me come find you in this little ass city, Ken. You know I will.
She set her cup down and glanced at the boxes still stacked around her. Tonight, they didn’t feel heavy at all, just unfinished.
Chapter Twelve
Rolani pulledup to his house a little after eight, cutting the engine and letting the silence settle around him. The night had been solid—better than solid. Being invited to dinner with Kennedi’s parents, even when she hadn’t appreciated him showing up unannounced, all of it stuck with him. He kept replaying small moments: her making his plate, the way she’d looked at him in that driveway.
Once again, Kennedi had come around and had his nose wide open. He hated it too, because he’d stand by her being foul when she left. It didn’t matter that it was months ago. He felt he was owed something, a phone call, shit, anything.
